Institutions
by Dr. Malignatius
Summary: The world is not quite what you know. There are among us those with strange powers. Have they always been here? Where do they come from, and where are they going? This is a realworld take on the world of Marvel Comics' XMen, insofar as comics and the


X-Fictions, Part I

**Chapter 1 **

"It wasn't your fault...but at a certain level you've always known that."

"It was. I told them not to go."

"You couldn't have known."

"But I did. We've been down this way before."

"I know, Saya," said Dr. Gordon, leaning back in his chair. "But this doesn't change the facts. There is no way you could have known, nothing you could have done, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner we can get on with the business of getting you your life back."

Saya Endo would have leaned back as well, if her chair permitted it. She instinctively tried to raise her left hand to brush her black hair, grown a bit too long now, from her eyes, but her hand went no further than the restraint on her chair arm permitted.

"We could even do without those, maybe." Dr. Gordon watched her hand for a long moment. She met his eyes, unblinking, and he looked away.

Outside, James the orderly shifted nervously, as Saya watched him enter in her mind's eye.

"James is coming in about a ninety seconds, to collect me," she said.

"That proves nothing. You know how long we have, and when our session ends."

"I can't see the clock from where I'm sitting."

"Perhaps you have a well developed sense of timing?"

"Now who's fishing, Doctor?"

James entered, all bulk and muscle and white uniform with elastic waistband pants and slip on shoes without laces. He greeted Saya, grabbed the handles on the back of her chair, and began to wheel her out of the office.

As James was pushing her wheelchair into the industrial off-white hallway, she added, "You're in a bit of trouble, Doctor. Dr. Erickson will be here to get an update in just a few minutes. And he's not going to be happy."

Dr. Gordon said nothing. He just called up the file again on his desktop computer, and stared at it blankly. Saya Endo, fifteen years old, five foot three inches tall, one hundred eleven pounds. Daughter of Hiro and Sarah Endo. Lost both parents in a car accident, claimed it was her fault, that she saw the whole thing before it happened. Found by the police the day of the crash on an on-ramp to I-5, running after her parent's car. He knew the facts, they hadn't changed in the seven months since she had been placed in his care, in the female juvenile wing of the Carlysle Institute. She claimed to know the future, which meant that Dr. Erickson should be entering about...

Now.

Stephen Erickson strode into Dr. Gordon's office. That's what Gordon thought, strode in was the only way to describe it. No knock, just came in like he owned the place. In his own mind, Gordon watched himself shrink just a little. Funny, he thought, how Erickson reminded him of an authority figure, and how that left him scared and amused. He thought about analyzing that thought.

"Knock that smirk off your face and give me an update, John."

"No progress, really. She still claims to see vivid hallucinations, despite the current prescription regimen. And she continues to claim that the hallucinations are in fact visual depictions of future events, which she believes she can alter by interacting with."

Erickson stared for a moment at the framed degree from Johns Hopkins University, then gazed around the office. He took in the photos of John Gordon with his wife Erin and son Tyler, at a lake, at the Grand Canyon, in New York City. He gazed out the plastic security window at the back of the office.

"You've begun to believe her." It was a statement, not a question.

"No, listen, Dr. Erickson...Stephen, this is a tough case, and she's been stubborn, resistant, even to medication."

Erickson interrupted by coughing. Gordon squirmed and went on, "I'm sure I'm close to something, I'm also making some progress with the Carlton girl, I just need a bit more time, is all."

"You think the two cases are related?"

"Yes, I do. And the O'Shea girl as well."

"What makes you think so, John?"

"Something Endo said." Dr. Erickson stood silent. "Oh, another thing. I'm pretty sure Endo is harmless, I think we might want to consider reducing the restraint protocol for dealing with her."

"I"ll see what I can do, John."

"Thanks, Sir." Gordon amazed himself by how easily the "Sir" slipped out. He was still amazed when Dr. Erickson left.

Back in the ward, James released the restraints that held Saya's wrists and ankles to the wheelchair. She stood up and stretched. "How'd it go?" he asked.

"Alright. Nothing, really."

"Shame. See you Thursday." James left, careful of the security checkpoint as he went. Saya found herself back in the common room she shared with the nine other residents of the Carlysle Institute's program for treating girls with mental disorders. Mimi Carlton waved to her from the couch.

"Gordon on you again?" Mimi asked Sai.

"Yeah, but nothing new." At least Mimi was interested, thought Saya. Most of the rest of the girls were hardly communicative. Then she stopped the thought. Maybe they were crazy. Fine, but that didn't explain what she was doing here.

Saya went and flopped down on the industrial green couch opposite Mimi on the blue one. Overhead, the television was showing cartoons that the girls were ignoring, except for Lisa Ablemarle, who was engrossed in them. She turned to Mimi and whispered, "Do you think Lisa's a monomaniac, with those cartoons?"

"Been reading up on psychology?"

"Haven't you?"

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't make you a doctor, does it?"

"Guess not."

The girls were interrupted by a flying pillow, thrown by Grace Miller. Mimi and Sai both looked at Grace, who was clearly hoping for a reaction. They went back to their conversation, although they had almost the same conversation every day. The girls agreed that if you were not crazy before coming here, the isolation, the security, the institute-issued pajamas that passed for daily wear, could drive you crazy. Kathleen O'Shea always insisted that they were meant to drive you crazy, that way, she said, they could justify sending you here in the first place.

And so it went.

Until Saya's eyes began to drift away from Mimi. Not towards Kathleen, reading a fashion magazine at the plastic desks that served as a schoolroom. Mimi looked up towards Miss Greene, the monitor, and then towards the cameras, and kept talking to Saya, so they wouldn't notice. Saya was elsewhere.

She was standing outside the institute, in the parking lot, watching Dr. Gordon get into his car. It was raining, it did that a lot. She didn't feel the rain, she wasn't there, but she wanted to feel the rain. She watched Gordon start the car. She watched two men approach, in masks and black leather and one of them held a dull metal object and they broke the window glass shattering sound she felt more than heard with splashing crimson all too bright in rain, watery and quiet.

Saya awoke with a start.

"What?" said Mimi.

"Yeah," added Kathleen, who had come to stand behind Saya as the vision came and went. "Clue us in."

"Doctor Gordon. A carjacking, I think. They shot him. I think he's dead."

"Who?" said Kathleen. "Why?"

It was Mimi who answered, although Saya had opened her mouth to speak. "Gordon knew. He knows about us, about Jill, he knows it all, and he believes it."

"Jill?" It was Kathleen's turn to be confused.

"Sure," said Mimi. "Same way I knew you guys were different, I knew Jill was too. But she's a bit touchy about it. I think she's really nuts."

In his office, Dr. John Gordon went over his notes again. He reminded himself of the man who keeps opening the refrigerator, hoping that something will have changed since last time. Mimi Carlton was the key to it, he was sure. But the file had no answers. Committed almost two years ago for killing her family's dog by choking it with its own tail, Mimi had no previous behavior issues that explained the sudden, violent outburst. He had to know for sure.

Mimi was as surprised as anyone when two orderlies, Stanton and Osborn, came to get her. She kept quiet as the passed her through the security checkpoint and strapped her into a wheelchair. It had happened before. She even suppressed her curiosity as they approached Dr. Gordon's office, and moved her inside.

"Do you know why I had you brought here?" asked the Doctor, without even a greeting.

"No."

"I think you can explain why you killed the dog. I think you can explain what I can't make sense of."

"I told you, I didn't kill the dog. I just felt sorry for her. She was chasing her tail, and I wanted her to catch it real bad. And then she caught it."

"NO. It's more than that." He looked her in the eye. "There's more to it than that."

"I've told you, but you wouldn't believe me. Nobody would."

"Tell me again."

"Will you believe it this time?"

"I don't know."

"Fine. I was watching Lindsey chase her tail. It was around Christmas, I was thirteen. I was sad that she never caught it, so I wished her good luck. And then she did, and she choked, and I ran and got my dad, but it was too late. And he thought I did it to be mean, and here I am."

"You wanted it to happen?"

"I told you. I wanted her to catch her tail, not the rest. I guess it just worked out that way."

"You made it happen?"

"I told you that when you first got here...I wanted her to catch it, and she did. I made her catch it somehow, but the rest I didn't do."

"Made her catch it?"

"I can't explain it. I was hoping you could, at least when you got here."

"I can't." Gordon stood up. "Osborn, if you could escort Miss Carlton back to the common room. I'll be working late."

**Chapter 2**

Kathleen never liked Doctor Gordon's office. It reminded her of her own father's office. She was ignoring Dr. Gordon's questions, letting the pills she had been given work their warming magic, when something jarred her back to awareness.

"He deserved it."

She had been thinking about her father. She said yes before she realized she had spoken.

"Tell me why. In your own words. I've read the court proceedings, I know the official story. But I want to hear it from you."

Kathleen thought for a long moment. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"Nothing we say will leave this room. You know that."

"But Saya says you talk to Dr. Erickson, and tell him everything. Erickson's no good."

Now it was Gordon's turn to be silent.

"Fine," Kathleen continued. You've probably got it all already. My dad used to hit me. A lot. Then one day, when he hit me, it stopped hurting. That was a few years ago. Then I guess I just didn't want to take it any more. I made up my mind to hit him back. Then he came home, he was drunk, I knew. He was loud, and I was trying to sleep. He came in to my room, my mom was in bed, pretending she didn't hear. He asked me if I had been out with Joe, this guy I liked, I lied, I said I hadn't. He didn't like Joe, I guess he was prejudiced or something. In any case, he starting yelling at me that I was a liar, and we yelled a lot, and then he hit me. Hard. And it didn't hurt. I just felt strong, you know, like I'd made up my mind and I knew what I was going to do. So I hit him back, just like he did."

"The doctors said he had seven broken ribs and spinal damage. They say he'll probably never walk quite right again. That was some punch."

"I know. Don't care. He got what was coming. He taught me that."

"It's the punch itself that interests me today. How did you do that?"

"I dunno. I, like, just hit him."

"Some shot, huh?"

"Yeah."

Silence encompassed the room again. Dr. Gordon took off his eyeglasses, polished them on a cloth, put them back. Then he turned and stared out the window, and when he spoke again, his voice was barely a whisper.

"Do you suppose there are people who can do things nobody else can?"

"You mean like sports stars and movie actors? Sure, I guess."

"No, I mean like eleven year old girls who don't feel pain when a two hundred pound man hits them. I mean fourteen year old girls who can shatter that man's body with their bare hands. They sent you to me because they think you're dangerous. Between you and me, I'm beginning to wonder who 'they' are and if maybe they're right."

He stopped again, and drew a deep breathe, like a climber facing a mountain that's defeated him before.

"I can help you, if you'll let me."

"How? Tell them I'm not crazy. We both know it, Doctor. They sent me here because they think I'll do it again."

"Are they right?"

"No...I don't know." She paused and held her breath. "Maybe, if I had to. Like, if I, well, if I had to. I guess."

Back in the common room, Kathleen found that most of the girls had gone to their individual rooms for the night, although lights-out was still forty five minutes away. She nodded to the cameras, flipped off the duty nurse who she hoped was watching, and flopped down on a couch. A few minutes later, Mimi emerged from her own room and joined her on the couch.

"How'd it go?" Mimi asked.

"Same shit, different day. Damn."

"What?"

"That's what my dad used to say. Must still be thinking about that asshole. Guess Gordon got to me after all."

Two floors up and one over, Doctor Gordon paced around his office. He had read the paperwork twenty times. "Obsess much?" he asked himself aloud. Jill Metcalf was being transferred to the eastern facility tonight. He hated to lose a patient, but he had to admit, he was making little progress with Jill. The girl was shut inside herself so tight, even Gordon had been unable to draw her out.

He continued pacing. Failure always hurt, but this felt different to him. He picked up the phone to call Erickson for the tenth time in twenty minutes, and stopped midway to the handset for the tenth time. Erickson had signed the form himself, he wasn't likely to change his mind now, Gordon thought.

He read the file again. Jill Metcalf, thirteen years old. Five foot five inches, one hundred twenty one pounds, allergic to penicillin. Athletic and bright, until her eleventh birthday, when she stopped speaking. Just like that. No clues, no previous indications. She just became quiet, and hadn't spoken in two years.

At least not with her mouth, Gordon added to himself. He denied it and denied it, but he had heard her pleading with him in his head, and not even in the same words each time. "You're losing it, old man," he said to himself, as if to exorcize the memory.

He should tell Erickson. He was not a failure. He had established communication with the girl, it was just the channel was so, so...Gordon stopped. What would he say? Unconventional? How about impossible? "These things don't happen," he told himself, aloud.

He knew that was not quite true either. These things did happen, they were in the very case files of the Carlysle Institute going all the way back to the Institute's founding in 1953. He knew that, he had read plenty of them in his six months working for Carlysle. Cases of arsonists without tools or motive, of voices that appeared from nowhere and could be captured on tape, of children who drank blood and climbed walls and manifested stigmata and angel's wings and glowing haloes of light and slithered on the floors and could turn a television on or off just by staring at it. It was all documented, and he had read only a tiny portion of the total, just the material he could get at, related to his own casework or background research.

If it were true...if it were true...Dr. Gordon unclenched his fist and began looking through his desk for aspirin. He felt a headache coming on, the kind that he got when he was stressed. This was worse than stress, he thought, going back into self analysis mode as a kind of defense. This is fear. For the first time in years, John Gordon was unsure of what to do.

He took four aspirin, just to be safe.

In the security center, Stephen Erickson and Institute Security Chief Roger Morriscone sat behind the night shift monitor board, watching Gordon pace on the central screen.

"See what I mean?" said Erickson.

Morriscone nodded. "I'll call the plumbers."

"You think its necessary? He's a good fellow at heart."

"You do your job, Doc, and let me do mine."

**Chapter 3**

Saya knew she was dreaming, because she was outside a hotel room, looking in through the sliding glass window at an old bald man who was sleeping, even though his eyes were open. She moved, watching her own feet glide over concrete and broken glass and then grass. Her vision shifted of its own accord to the parking lot behind the hotel, illuminated by the lighting that marked the exit from the interstate.

A car arrived, and two men got out. She knew them, Osborn and Stanton, orderlies from the institute. She only had a moment to recognize them as they put on black ski masks they took from a duffel bag on the back seat. Stanton took out a handful of what looked to Saya like soda cans, while Osborn fitted a headband with a glowing green light on it around his ski mask, and then fitted a similar device on Stanton's head.

The vision played out with agonizing slowness.

The men walked across the parking lot, in impossible lighting, trailing the yellow remnants of the light of a Perkins sign across the road. They approached the hotel room, cut the glass silently with a circular blade, inserted two of the cans which were now emitting a light gray smoke.

Everything sped up. One of the masked men reached through the hole and opened the door, a huge wicked knife in one hand and they entered and crossed quickly to the sleeping man who came half awake and looked at them and the green lights on the headbands flashed red and his blood flashed redder still as they stabbed and cut and cut and the man was...was...dead.

Saya got out of bed, went to the door of her room, tried it although she knew it was locked after lights-out. It opened anyway. She crept into the hallway, staying low to avoid the cameras as best she could. In the common room, there were nothing but the red lights of the cameras. But Saya noticed one red light too many. A small, glowing cigarette end. Staying behind the couch, she crossed the room, and found Mimi smoking a cigarette on the floor behind the blue couch, below the camera's view.

"How did you get out?" Saya asked, and then, "Wait, how did I get out? Are they getting forgetful all of a sudden?"

"No," said Mimi. "I just wanted them to forget tonight."

"Where did you get a clove?"

"James forgot it. Careless of him. They'll probably write him up or something." She laughed a little, which made Saya more nervous.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you away from everybody else," Mimi continued.

"S'funny. I wanted to talk to you too."

"Cool. What about?"

"I had another vision tonight. There's going to be a murder, and its Stanton and Osborn. They stabbed this old guy to death in a hotel or something like that."

Mimi thought for moment. "Stanton I could believe, he's mean. But Osborn? He seems like a nice guy."

"Multiple personality?" Saya joked. They both laughed a little easier.

"We should do something. I mean, get out. You know, before they come for us. Do you know how long before the murder you saw?"

"No, maybe a couple days, I don't know. But it was really real, you know, I could find the place again, I'm pretty sure."

"Not tonight, though. It'll be pretty tight, since they're transferring Jill in the morning."

"Okay, we can wait a bit. But we should move before they transfer us."

"You'll know in advance when that is?"

"I'm not sure. Its not like I can control it. It just kind of happens."

"We'll figure it out. Better head back to bed, its almost time for the midnight sweep."

A steady Seattle rain was falling when the policeman knocked at the door of the Gordon household, a colonial spread on the edge of Walton. Tyler Gordon answered the door, hesitating, wondering if the beers he'd had the other day had anything to do with a cop standing on his doorstep. The cop asked if his mother was home, which made him feel a lot younger than his sixteen years. He went to get her, and then went back to his room and his computer.

Tyler jumped up again almost immediately. He heard his mother scream, raced downstairs, found her and the policeman seated in the dining room. She had her head down on the table and was sobbing so hard her body shook.

"I'm sorry," said the policeman, to Tyler and his mother.

Tyler stopped, took in the scene, and he knew. He picked up a chair and threw it, watched it smash a hole in the drywall of the dining room, stormed into the kitchen and back again.

"How?"

"It was a carjacking gone wrong. We've got a suspect, don't worry, we'll catch the guy."

"Fuck lotta good that'll do." Tyler slammed the back door on his way out.

Back at the institute, Dr. Erickson took the news a bit more calmly. He stood up from his desk, and excused himself from the phone call he was in the middle of to address his assistant, Carrie, who had brought the news. Carrie was going on about how they were in the middle of nowhere, and you'd think that was the kind of thing that only happened in New York or L.A. or someplace like that.

Dr. Erickson dismissed her with a wave, and she left, taking her monologue with her. He picked up the phone again. "I see," he said curtly. "You do understand, we have a rather delicate situation here, and I've only just learned we lost a staff member. I'm afraid the girls might be rather traumatized...Well, no, I don't want to do it, but I understand. Yes. Goodbye."

He hung up and pushed the intercom. "Mr. Morriscone, would you come up here please?"

Morriscone hurried to the office. "Got a situation?"

"Yeah. I just got off the phone with the board. They like Xavier's credentials, and they won't see cancelling the visit in spite of our little tragedy. We're going to have to entertain the man, and probably give him some time with the girls."

"Which ones does he want to see?"

"O'Shea, Endo, and Carlton. And Metcalf, but she'll be in Vermont by then."

"Can we do anything about it?"

"You tell me, you're security chief around here."

"No, then. He's going to see them. We can limit time, and we can play damage control after the fact, but if the board is set on it, we can't freeze him out without attracting way too much attention."

"Damage control?"

"Leave it to me, Doctor."

**Chapter 4**

James stood in the door of the common room. "Carlton, Endo, O'Shea, front and center." The girls had been sitting around, doing very little other than ignore Lisa and her cartoons, Charlotte and her fascination with the wallpaper, and Grace's childish attempts to get their attention by making faces and sticking her tongue out.

"You three have a visitor. Unless you'd rather not see him, and I'm guessing that would make Dr. Erickson happy."

"Erickson doesn't like this guy?" asked Mimi.

James nodded and motioned the three of them to walk into the security hallway.

"No chairs?" said Kathleen. "No restraints?"

"Nope, not today. Doctor's orders."

The girls walked through corridors they had been wheeled through, then into unfamiliar territory, and finally into a large room with a table and chairs.

Saya stopped at the entrance. Seated in a wheelchair next to the table was a bald man who looked middle-aged but had ancient eyes. He wore a plain blue suit and a necktie, and a blanket covered his legs.

Saya whispered to Mimi, "that's the man from the hotel." Mimi nodded back.

With a glance, the bald man dismissed James, who closed the door as he left. He then turned to the girls. "Forgive me if I don't get up to greet you," he smiled. "Please, take a seat." One by one, they did. "I have you at a disadvantage, as I know you three and you don't know me at all. Allow me to correct that. My name is Doctor Charles Xavier. I am an expert, a specialist of sorts, and I believe I can help you if you let me."

Mimi started to make a sharp comeback, but something in the man's eyes stopped it on her tongue. She settled for "Lots of people have promised to help, but they haven't."

"I know that. But I believe I may be able to bring an insight to bear on your particular problems that others may have lacked. For instance, all three of you were sent here on the assumption that you were suffering from some form of mental illness. Let me assure you, I have read your case histories, and I find that conclusion ill-informed, at best. In short, I am prepared to listen, rather than place you into categories, and I believe you will find that makes all the difference."

The girls began to relax. All three of them traded glances that said the same thing. Maybe we can trust this guy. Maybe he really can help. And then, we should do something before he gets killed.

And with that, all three of them began telling him their problems at the same time. They were still at it at the end of the hour when the orderlies came to tell them the visit was over.

"You know, Scott, I've had some long days, but they never get any easier," said Xavier to the tall young man pushing his wheelchair towards the waiting lift van in the parking lot. "I'm actually glad you came along on this one."

"Wouldn't have missed it, Sir. I remember when you came to the hospital in Anchorage to find me, I was so alone and scared I thought I'd be that way my whole life. I can guess what these girls are going through."

"Well, its not quite the same as that, but the principle's similar."

"If you don't mind my asking, Sir, what is the story?" Scott waited for the lift to finish, closed the door, and went around to the driver's side.

"All three girls were brought here against their will. Mimi Carlton was sent by her father, after she caused her family's dog's death."

"What did she do to the dog?"

"Made it catch its own tail. I'm not quite sure what she did, truth be known, or even if she did it. She's the hardest to pin down."

"And the others?"

"Kathleen O'Shea struck back against an abusive father who beat both her and her mother. Sounds like she absorbed some of the force she had been struck with. Pretty straightforward, I think. Saya Endo claims to see visions. She said she saw a realistic vision of the car crash that killed her family, and blames herself for not stopping them from getting into the car. I fear she may be right, in that her visions represent probabilities, not certainties. Miss Endo carries a great deal of guilt, and I wish I could tell her it was misplaced."

"But her parents never would have listened, right?"

"That's precisely why she feels so guilty."

"Oh." Scott drove on in silence until they reached the hotel. He helped Dr. Xavier through the sliding door into his room.

"You know," said Dr. Xavier, "knowing the future means Miss Endo carries quite a weight of responsibility..."

"Yeah, that's something I know a little bit about," Scott said slowly, fingering his specially made glasses. "But you got these shades for me, they keep things under control, maybe there's something you could do for her?"

"I'm sure _we'll_ think of something. My main concern is whether or not she is ready to accept our help, and face up to the weight of that responsibility. The same may be true of Miss Carlton, but it's too early too tell."

"So we wait a bit?"

"At least until we have more data, and perhaps something to eat."

**Chapter 5**

Mimi, Saya and Kathleen were sitting in a corner of the couch, doing their best not to be overheard, although none of them had spoken in some time. Finally, it was Sai who broke the silence. "We need to do something."

"We've established that," Mimi snapped. "The problem is what."

Silence again. They had already considered and discarded any number of plans, and repetition was just fraying nerves.

"Maybe we could warn Dr. Xavier," said Mimi. "Saya, do you suppose you could talk to people in your visions?"

"No. I'm not really there. I mean, not really. It looks real, but there's no, like, uh, feeling. I'm not sure how to say it. It's like being just eyes and ears."

"You don't like it?" asked Kathleen, who had been watching the cameras as though she could see the eyes on the other side.

"Not really. It's kind of scary, and it comes on whenever it wants to, like, even if I'm in the middle of something. Kinda like having epilepsy, I guess."

"Epilepsy?"

"Yeah, its this disease where you have attacks and you can't control your body or something like that. It's supposed to be pretty scary."

The next silence lasted through dinner, and nearly until lights-out. It was Saya who spoke first, again. "Mimi, how did you know I wanted to sneak out and meet with you? And how did you get out?"

Mimi thought for a long moment. "I just wanted it, real bad. Like the time Lindsey caught her tail, or the cigarette, or...or...Hey. I wonder if I could do it by choice. Like if I really wanted to get out, maybe there would be a way."

"I think it's worth a try. Kathleen? You in?"

"Shit yes. This place makes me sick. But how do we do it? Wait for Mimi to wish real hard?"

"No," said Mimi. "Not exactly. But close. I know how they check the doors just after lights out. Maybe if I just concentrated on them forgetting to lock a door or something, that would get us off the ward."

"Just forgetting?"

"Yeah, like James forgot his cloves."

"It might work." Saya looked hopeful for the first time since Mimi and Kathleen had known her.

Dr. Erickson was in his office when the intercom buzzed. "Doctor," said an electronically screened voice, "this is operations control. You might want to come down here and have a look."

"What for?" Erickson let his contempt go with his words. He was too busy figuring out a way to control potential damage from Xavier's visit, and to make sure the board didn't authorize another one.

"Doctor, you really do need to see this."

"Fine, I'm on my way down. And this better be important."

Erickson made his way to the elevator, swiped his card and entered his security code, and made his way to small room that sat like an island amidst a sea of monitors. He took one look, pulled at his jaw a moment. "Thanks, Connelly. You were right."

"Just doing my job, Doctor," said the sandy haired man wearing a white bio-hazard isolation suit with the hood open and hanging down his back.

Erickson studied the monitors a bit more. He pressed an intercom button and connected to Morriscone's office. "Roger?" Morriscone answered. "We've got a situation here. The Carlton girl is showing significant alpha-theta spikes and neurological activity that's damn near off the chart. I'm going to code-three lockdown and sending an ops-team. Sorry to step on your toes, Roger, but there's no time to wait."

"Fine, do it," said Morriscone. "Are you in operations control now?" Erickson acknowledged that he was. "Okay," Morriscone continued. "I"m gonna round up my A-team and get up to the girls' ward ASAP. I'll be in touch.

"By the way, did you deal with Xavier yet?"

"No, too close in time, too suspicious. I told you, Doctor, leave that to me. The less you know, the easier a time you'll have with the board. Trust me on that one."

The girls had remained hidden in the common room at lights-out, and Saya and Kathleen were surprised and pleased when Nurse Tanner's last sweep somehow overlooked them entirely. Mimi was smiling and concentrating all at once. She turned to the other two. "It worked...It really worked."

"Congrats later," said Kathleen. "Let's get out of here now."

None of them were surprised when the outer security door proved unlocked as well. They stole into the corridor, crept towards the outer door that opened on the main concourse and elevator lobby.

The lobby was as far as they got. Saya saw the men in their alien-looking white suits in a waking dream before she saw them with her eyes, but by then it was too late to do anything but yell, which would have given them away in any case. She came back to reality as hands grabbed her, forced her into a wheelchair, pinned her arms and legs down, pulled something over her head.

"Got them. Good work, men"

At operations control, Dr. Erickson watched with a pleased look. He opened the intercom. "That was close, Roger. Your guys did a bang-up job on this one. Take them to level nine, and we'll get some serious containment going. I've got Havers on the line, and his guys are just about ready, maybe ten minutes. Can you sit on them that long?"

"No problem, doc. I'll take them down the elevator myself. Just tell Havers to hurry up. The Mariners game starts in ten and I don't want to miss the first inning."

The girls found themselves wheeled, one by one, into a large elevator. Blindfolded and scared, none of them said a word. Mimi listened, she could feel another chair next to hers. She leaned over and whispered, "Kathleen?" A positive response came back in a whisper.

Mimi concentrated. Then she lifted her left wrist, and it came free of the chair arm. The restrain was still attached at the wrist, but it was not attached to the chair. Not stopping to question her good fortune, she reached over with her left and found Kathleen's right hand. Working quickly, she freed Kathleen's hand and then brought her own back to the armrest.

Kathleen was almost afraid to breath as she worked to free her left hand. Once she had both hands, she reached up and pulled the hood from her head. She was in an elevator, next to the other girls in chairs and hoods of their own, and with a tall man in a white suit that covered his whole body, even the head. The man realized she was looking at him, that she was moving, and he reached back and struck her a blow across the top of her head.

The slap didn't hurt Kathleen. She felt clear-headed for the first time in days. She stood up with the sensation of watching herself from outside her own body. She punched the white-suited man, hard, the way she had seen her father do it so many times before, and he crumpled around himself and fell. She pushed a random button, and the elevator stopped.

At that point, she realized she was standing. The remains of the ankle restraints were still clasped around her ankles, but they had torn free of the chair as she stood up.

Regaining her sense of self, she helped the other two to get free of the restraints just as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. All three bolted for the open door, and were twenty paces from the elevator before they realized, collectively, that they had no idea were they were.

**Chapter 6**

It was Kathleen who took charge when the girls came to a stop. "This way," she said as she moved through a door. Saya followed, but Mimi pulled up short.

"Uh, guys, you better look at this." Mimi indicated a yellow warning sign on the door that read "Caution: Sensitive Hazard"

"What the hell does that mean?" asked Kathleen.

"It means we go this way instead," said Mimi, who had noticed that another door was also unlocked.

"Did you do that with the door?" asked Saya.

"Yeah, I really wanted it to be open, and it was. Hold on a second. Your visions, you can see stuff that's going to happen?"

"Yeah, I think."

"Okay, can you make one come? Can you see where those weird guys are going? If we knew, we could go another way." Kathleen nodded in agreement.

"I'll try. It's really not something I want to do."

"I know, but we really need it right now."

Saya did not respond. She closed her eyes to the drab concrete hallway around her, tried to ignore the chill that cut through her pajamas. She let her mind focus, the way she had when she first started taking Tai Chi. It only took a moment.

"I was in the upstairs corridor, outside the common room. They're sweeping floor by floor, but they don't know which floor we got off. I think the cameras are broken."

"So what you're saying," said Kathleen, "is that we've gotta run." With that, she took off down the hallway, and the other two followed. For the next few minutes they ran without speaking, listening to the slapping noise their slippers made on the floors, pausing only to read directional signs that told them nothing at all. Suddenly, Saya grabbed the others and pulled them into a room. She was just in time, as two white-suited men came around a corner. They were moving quickly, and one carried a long pole with a plate on the end.

For a long moment, the girls were hesitant to even breathe. Then they heard the men pass, and realized they were in a vault. Green metal filing cabinets lined one wall, and metal shelves held row after row of overstuffed manilla folders.

It took several minutes for Morriscone to recover from Kathleen's punch. As soon as he did, he touched the intercom switch. "Doctor, we've got a situation."

Erickson, still in operations control, took the call himself. "I know. I told you O'Shea was reflexive kinetic, why'd you hit her? Oh, God, you didn't read the memo, did you?"

"Was busy, doc. Don't worry, I've got teams sweeping the building, they won't get far. Got any other surprises my guys and I should know about?"

"Well, your little encounter in the elevator confirms O'Shea. Don't hit her, you'll just feed her strength. As for the other two, Carlton was putting out massive alpha-theta activity, but then she just stopped and dropped off the scanner entirely. I think she's jamming us somehow, but I can't confirm that at this point. Endo seems to be peeking into the future, but near as we can tell the talent is random and uncontrollable, so she probably won't be able to make use of it."

"Probably?"

"That's what we think."

"Shit, doc, she's probably two moves ahead of us. That's why we're not finding them, they see what we're doing before we do it."

"What's protocol for that?"

"Haven't got one, or at least none we've ever tried. Never actually seen an active pre-cognitive before. Shit, doc, we're in trouble here." Morriscone hesitated a moment. "I think we want to go code green on this one, and pull the plug before the do any more damage."

"With Xavier's visit, I'm inclined to agree with you. Consider code green authorized. I'll take care of the record keeping, just find those three and get rid of them."

Unwilling to leave the vault until they were sure the men had gone, the girls took a moment to look around themselves. The green file cabinets were arranged by year, beginning in 1953 and running through 1980. In each one they found case files, names and dates and reports on children who could move objects with their minds, who could make concrete blocks fall apart, who could climb walls and walk on ceilings, who could bite through plate steel. The only constant was that each of them could do something superhuman.

"They've been doing this to us a long time," said Mimi.

"What kind of us?" answered Kathleen, putting down a manilla folder with graphs, charts and numbers that made no sense to her.

"Us, you know. People with powers. I mean, Saya actually saw those guys coming, and it saved us. And how did you deck that guy so easily, he was, like three times your size?"

"I dunno. I just felt really strong when he hit me" Kathleen paused. "Shit, you're talking about mutants. I thought that was strictly tabloid. My mom used to read that crap. Right up there with angels and UFO's and Saddam Hussein's love child."

"Forget that for a minute. I mean, doesn't it seem weird what just happened? Most people get hurt when a guy that big hits them. But you just get strong."

"So what about you," asked Saya, "do you get strong or something?"

"No, I think its got something to do with wishing. I mean, I really wanted the door to be open, an it was. That kind of thing just doesn't happen in a place like this on its own."

"Well, I hope your wishing-thing can keep them from finding us."

"I'm working on it real hard."

"Well," said Kathleen, "we can't stay here all night. They'll find us eventually." With that, she leaned out and looked into the hallway.

"Could have let Saya do it with her visions," said Mimi.

"No," said Saya. "It's alright. I'd rather not try to get the visions if I don't have to. They're pretty intense."

"Sorry." And then to Kathleen, "Anybody out there?"

There was no one in the hallway, so they left the records room. After a few steps, they stopped to take off the Institute issued slippers, which made noise unless they stepped very slowly.

"Can't run in these, can't even be sneaky in them," said Saya.

Mimi answered her, "probably part of the security system."

"They think of shit like that?" asked Kathleen.

"I don't know. Wouldn't be surprised if they do. Hey, look at this." Mimi had spotted a door at the end of branching hallway that looked like it had not been used in some time. "Let's try that way."

The mystery door led to maintenance hallway, and from there, they were able to access a crawlspace.

"If this is your doing, Mimi," said Saya, "you're amazing. I think we're really going to make it."

"I agree," said Mimi, motioning to a window they were approaching. It was small, but it overlooked the outer courtyard of the Carlysle Campus. From the window, they could see a parking lot flooded with light and activity. Men in white bio-hazard suits were moving around the parking lot, assembling complex equipment and grouping themselves into squads of five. They moved with a practiced precision that left the girls staring in amazement for a moment.

Rain bounced off the window, giving the whole scene below a washed out look. The girls held a brief conference, and then pushed on the window until it slid open. All that left was the security bar. Mimi turned to Kathleen.

"Do you think you could do that trick again, where you get that strong?"

"I guess."

"Good." With that, Mimi pulled back and punched Kathleen as hard as she could. Kathleen smiled, this time she could actually feel the strength flowing into her. She grabbed the security bar and pulled it out, taking three inches of masonry out of the wall with it. She turned the bar with its masonry base over in her hand, testing its weight as a club.

Saya put her head carefully out the window. "Looks like about fifteen feet down, but there's hedges and grass at the bottom. If we're lucky," and she paused to give Mimi a long look, "the bush will break our fall, and the rain and darkness will hide us long enough to get gone."

"So what're we waiting for?" said Mimi, climbing out the window. The others followed quickly. It was a messy landing, but none of them suffered more than scratches and bruises. They regrouped behind the bush.

"Everybody alright?" said Mimi.

"I'm better than ever," said Kathleen. "But I can't find my shoes."

"Huh?"

"Came off when I hit. Sorry, wasn't aiming for the bush. Wanted to hit the pavement. It worked, I'm feeling even stronger."

"Saya?"

"I'm okay," she replied, tearing her pant leg up the knee as she slowly and quietly pulled it free of the hedge.

For a moment, the girls just enjoyed the rain. It was the first time they had been outdoors, on their own, in a long time. Then they exchanged a glance, and began creeping away from the Institute's campus.

**Chapter 7**

Back in his hotel room, Dr. Charles Xavier was a bit worried. He was laying on the bed, his eyes half open, letting his mind wander. Scott sat in a chair near the room's desk, reading from a paperback copy of George Orwell's Animal Farm. Xavier sat up. "No luck."

Scott put a bookmark in the novel and closed it. "You couldn't find them telepathically?"

"No, not a thing. I'm beginning to think at least one of them might be generating psi-static. Probably not even aware of it."

"You suppose they can screw up alpha-theta sensors as well?"

"I'm hoping that's the case. Since we can't find them easily, if they can't mask themselves, they'll be found before we can help them." He concentrated again. "The institute staff seem equally confused, and several of them are having rather bloody-minded thoughts right now."

"So they don't know where they are?"

"No. Carlysle's staff lost track of them, and they're having as hard a time finding them as we are."

"We could get the van and see if they're nearby. It's a longshot, but..."

He's eager to do something, Xavier thought. No need for telepathy to know that. "Not a bad idea, Scott. But you go. I'll keep searching from here." Scott grabbed the van's keys and left.

Sneaking away from a bunch of strange and dangerous looking men had been as easy as they make it look in the movies, thought Mimi. But they don't tell you what to do next. Before she could speak, it was Kathleen who raised the issue. "Where do we go from here?"

"I think we should try to find Dr. Xavier," said Saya. He seemed like a nice guy, and the Institute people hate him so bad they want to kill him."

"That makes him okay by me. What do you think, Mimi? We're in this together."

"I don't know. I mean, they'll be looking for three of us, maybe we ought to split up. I like the idea of finding Xavier, I just don't know how, and maybe if we split up, if one of us finds him, they could help the others."

Kathleen nodded her approval, but Saya spoke. "I don't like the idea of splitting up. We got this far together, I think we should stick together. And as for finding this Xavier guy, Mimi's been really lucky so far. Maybe it'll hold out a bit longer."

"Yeah, I have been. Makes sense. Okay. Together then. But where?"

"You tell us, you're the lucky one."

"Well, we start by going away from all the noise, lights, and sirens and such over there." With that, the girls turned away from the parking lot and started off into the forest. It only took a few moments before all three were soaked. They left the activity in the parking lot and on the road behind them, and soon found themselves in nearly complete darkness. After several minutes, Saya whispered, "Can anybody see where we are?"

"No." "Nope, not a god-damn thing."

"Great."

"Just keep your arms out and try not to walk into a tree."

For several hours they did nothing but walk, arms outstretched like movie zombies. The slippers they had almost literally fell apart in the rain after an hour, and their clothing soaked through and left them shivering every time a wind passed through the trees.

"Hey, Mimi," said Saya finally, "think you could do something about us freezing to death?"

Mimi closed her eyes for a moment, and stopped walking. "Yeah. Let's go this way." She changed course to the left. Ten more minutes and the girls could see lights. They were coming to a roadside strip mall. As they reached the edge of the trees, they saw a police car cruise by, two officers inside on the alert and scanning the sides of the road. They ducked and tried not to breathe until the car passed. They waited for a truck to pass, and then crept across the highway. Luck was still with them. At one end of the strip mall was a large green donation box that announced that clothing and coats for the needy could be dropped off in big, hand painted white letters.

"I guess we count as needy," said Kathleen, who was already beginning to go through a pile of coats.

"I don't think that's what they meant," added Saya, although she was too cold to stand on principle.

Within minutes the girls had laid out a selection of shirts, trousers, and coats. Mimi's luck still ran true, she found a Washington State University sweatshirt in just her size, jeans that actually fit, and a pair of sneakers that were her size and had a bit of use left in them. The others had to settled for pushing up sleeves and rolling up pant legs, and Mimi's sneakers were the only ones in the bin. Finally, they each selected a coat, buried the Institute pajamas as far down in the bin as they could get, and ducked behind the strip mall just as another vehicle went by. This one was a white van, and Saya noticed the men driving were wearing bio-hazard suits. The van slowed, played a searchlight over the now-empty parking lot, and drove on.

"Nothing's ever easy for you, Scott, is it?" Scott Summers asked himself. He was sitting in a line of stopped traffic, had been for the last twenty minutes, when he finally got a look at the what was holding up the line: a police roadblock. It was another ten frustrating minutes before he got the front of the line, and rolled down his window as a policeman approached. Rain dripped from the officer's wide-brimmed hat and down over his orange slicker.

Without any preliminary, the policeman asked Scott for his license. He snatched it from Scott's hand, took a long look at it. "New York, huh? You're a long way from home. This a rental?"

"Yes, sir. I'm here with Dr. Charles Xavier, he's paralyzed. The lift is for him." To himself, Scott thought, "That was foolish, don't give away more information than you need to. I guess I'm more tired and frustrated than I thought."

The officer continued to study the photograph on Scott's license. Washington State Trooper Sam Haverhill had seen all sorts of things in twelve years on the job. He had seen drunk drivers who wore sunglasses in the dark. But he had never seen a driving license picture with sunglasses so dark red they completely concealed the eyes of the individual pictured.

"Let's have a look at your face without those sunglasses, huh?"

"My apologies, sir, I can't remove them."

"What kind of nonsense is that? Are you on drugs? Is that it?"

"No, sir. I have a medical condition. I've got documentation here, in my wallet."

"Nice and slow, then."

Scott slowly got his wallet, withdrew the right card, and handed it to Trooper Haverhill, who read it and looked up, puzzled. "Never seen one of these before. Gonna have to call this in." He walked back to his squad car, keeping one eye on Scott.

"Wants to see if I squirm," thought Scott. "Not a bad move." Scott turned on the radio, and began flipping news channels. Maybe he could learn if this roadblock had anything to do with the very people he was looking for.

Ten minutes later, Trooper Haverhill returned Scott's license and documents. "It all checks out. You have a nice night."

"Thanks. You too, sir." Scott drove off, then picked up his cell phone and speed-dialed Xavier's phone. "Sir, you might want to know, I just got through a roadblock, and the news is spinning it as a hunt for dangerous fugitives."

"I know, Scott. I've got the television on, and a lot of panicked thoughts all around me. Any trouble?"

"No, sir. Your documents passed just fine, no problems for me. But no luck finding the three of them. Anything at your end?"

"No."

**Chapter 8**

The girls had been walking for several more hours, and the sky was turning from black to grey. They had stayed away from roads, both to dodge several roving vans with the bio-hazard clean-suited men in them, and to save their tired feet from the rough asphalt. They kept going until they thought they were about ready to pass out from cold and exhaustion. When they saw an old house that looked unoccupied, set well back from the road, Kathleen and Saya turned to Mimi to thank her.

Mimi shrugged and they moved to investigate the house.

Once, it had clearly been a wonderful home. A set of columns framed the front door, and three-paneled windows, broken and boarded up now, dominated the first floor. The grounds showed signs of landscaping long abandoned, and Kathleen saw what might have once been a hedge maze and tree fort just around the house's corner. She took the lead and tried the front door. A rusty lock snapped under her grip, and she looked inside.

"Kinda looks like something out of a horror movie."

"Thanks, Kath," said Saya. "Why'd you have to bring that up right now?" Saya admitted to herself that she was glad of the daylight that filtered in through the unbroken side and back windows. At night, this place might have been too spooky. She was still on that thought when Mimi interrupted.

"Hey, guys, take a look at this." Mimi was in the kitchen. The refrigerator was empty and unplugged, but a cupboard held canned food with current dates, and under the kitchen counter were two cases of drinking water in plastic bottles. "You think somebody lives here?"

"If they do," said Saya, "I doubt they'll turn us in. They're probably not supposed to be here, either."

Kathleen chuckled. "I'm not worried about them turning us in. I'm worried about what they might do if they find us here. Hey, Saya, can you tell if anybody's gonna come for a few hours? We could get some sleep."

"It's not as easy as that, you know. Besides, if somebody does come, what are they going to do? Hit you? You'll get stronger."

Mimi interrupted. "What if they've got guns? I don't know if Kath is bulletproof."

"And I don't wanna find out. Still, we need some sleep, and its better if we're not walking around in the daylight."

The girls agreed and went upstairs. They found the beds, like the rest of the furniture, covered in white drapes that they used as bed sheets. None of them realized how tired they were until they laid down, blinked, and it was early evening.

Saya awoke first. She sat upright and swung her legs over the bed. She reached over to the other side of the king bed. "Mimi, wake up. I think I heard somebody downstairs."

Mimi woke slowly, while Saya went and roused Kathleen, who was sleeping across the hall in another bedroom. The girls listened intently, and soon all three of them could hear something or someone moving around downstairs. They heard metal scraping, and realized somebody was opening one of the cans they had found.

"Must've brought a can opener, " Mimi whispered. "Sure wish we had one."

Kathleen started for the stairs, but Saya stopped her. "What are you doing?"

"Relax, I used to sneak in past my dad all the time. I'll be quiet." She moved down the stairs, taking each one individually, until she could see the kitchen. She had to put her hand over her mouth to silence her sharp intake of breath. In the kitchen was a hunched-over creature, a pile of rags and hair and very sharp nails that Kathleen hoped weren't actually claws. She watched it use its claws to open a can of peaches, which it then began eating. Kathleen crept back up the stairs. "We gotta get out of here," was all she said.

Mimi took the lead. "I saw a back staircase when we came in, let's try that." The rear staircase opened on a dining room that overlooked the back yard. The overgrown hedge maze and extensive tree house were clearly visible for the dining room. The glass sliding doors were open, so they went out into the back yard. They were half way across the flagstone courtyard when they heard the creature coming.

Saya started for the hedge maze, Kathleen turned back towards the house, and Mimi thought first of the tree fort. Mimi grabbed the other two and pointed to the tree house. "We won't get lost and we can pull up the rope ladder until it goes away."

They were barely up the ladder into the tree fort when the creature entered the dining room. Ignoring the furniture drapes, it sat down in a chair, arranging several cans of food, and began to eat. When it was done, it took out a slim book and stared at it from several different angles. Watching from the tree fort, the girls made two discoveries. The fort they were in looked the bedroom of a little girl, littered with dolls, stuffed animals, early reader books, and ragged and torn dresses. And the creature sitting at the table, despite the twisted face, the too-small eyes and oversized ears, the claws and drooping whiskers, was human.

They were in her bedroom. And just as they realized that, the girl-creature noticed them. Its ears perked up, and it bolted out of the bedroom. She moved so fast Kathleen barely had time to get the ladder pulled up.

Dr. Erickson had passed nervous several hours ago, and by now he was furious. He hadn't slept all night. By early morning his own teams and the police had found nothing. He turned over control of operations to his research chief, Dr. Connors, and went to catch a nap in his office. Going home under these circumstances was out of the question. Cheryl would understand, he told himself. She's a good woman, a good wife.

He was just getting guilty enough to call her before napping when an aide came in with a CD in a plastic case. "Dr. Connors ran this data this morning before coming in, and says you should have a look at it right away." He put it on Erickson's desk without waiting to be invited.

"Fine. Now get out." The aide left in a hurry. Erickson sighed and slid the disk into his desktop computer.

"Okay," he began reading half-aloud, "the girls are confirmed mutants. Like we didn't know that." He stopped himself, he knew he must be exhausted if he was reading aloud. He scanned further, still mumbling. "Tests indicated...O'Shea, kinetic re-direction, possibly cellular absorption, yeah, we knew that too...Endo...high probability of precognition, life-like visions, mental acuity at level...okay, tell me something I don't know..."

The report did. He read it twice.

"We believe that Carlton can, unconsciously, assert orders of probability in a way that we are beginning to believe can barely be explained by chaos mechanics. If we follow that..." Erickson stopped trying to take in the complex mathematics that followed, he was just too tired to make sense of them. "My god," he said aloud, to nobody in particular. "No wonder we can't catch her."

He read on. "Current theory suggests that such a mutant, if one actually did exist, would be able, at a certain level, to manipulate the very fabric of reality itself, thereby calling into question many of our assumptions about what constitutes quotidian reality. In conclusion, this department recommends monitoring Carlton extremely carefully, in tightly controlled social circumstances, and expects a run-time on this project of no more than three years, with final disposition of subject Carlton at that time." Below that, Dr. Connors had added a hand-written note that read simply, "this girl may be too dangerous to let her live even that long. Let me know what you think. Curt."

Erickson was fully awake again. He buzzed the intercom, summoned Roger Morriscone, smoked a cigarette while he waited. When Morriscone entered, Erickson ignored how tired he looked and a conventional greeting. "Roger, have you read this?" He indicated Connors' report.

"Yeah, I have. It gets worse. The lab boys tell me that if Connors is right, it's a very high probability that Xavier's visit's timing is no coincidence. Have a look at this." He thrust a pile of papers and folders onto Erickson's desk.

Erickson went through the papers quickly. "Xavier's a geneticist, and a long-time champion of the idea that mutants are real, whatever they say in the tabloids aside, and that they're just regular folks, like lefties or people from Idaho. I knew all that already. What of it?"

"Never mind, I'll sum it up for you. Xavier's been in the mutant business for sixty years..."

"How old is the man?"

"Mid-eighties, near as we can tell"

"Chrissake, he's in good shape. I mean, apart from the wheelchair. I'd guessed he was about my age."

"How old are you anyway, doc?

"Fifty eight next month, if I should live that long. Anyway, what were you saying?"

"Seems like he was the author a number of papers, you've probably read them, but he used some pseudonyms so we're still tracking them all down. In any case, it seems like a lot of the initial work that this place was built on back in 1953 he had a hand in, and I'm thinking he was all buddy-buddy with Old Man Carlysle. Long story short, he may have figured out what we're doing, and I guess we've gone and pissed him off."

"And why do we care? Other than the fact that he's charmed the pants off the jackasses we like to call the board of directors?"

"'Cause this guy's got friends everywhere, that's why. He knows people in the Pentagon, he's probably got a line to the White House, and we're guessing the FBI practically answers to him, or at least that's what it looks like at this point."

"You called in the FBI? I thought the point was NOT to go public?"

"We put out some feelers, but bailed. Like I said, I think he's got friends there. Relax, no harm done."

"So what do we do? We can't do another 'accident' so soon after Gordon, rest his soul."

"Wait, it gets worse. I had my research team go the fringe, see what the lunatics have to say, and we found a few consistent 'talking points.' Most of them agree that there's something fishy about a private school he runs in New York State. A lot of people think Xavier IS a mutant, and that's why he's all about the whole mutant-agenda thing. Some folks think he's recruiting an army of mutants at his school, which, by the way, also points to his friends in the FBI..."

"Huh?"

"Think, doc. If he was building a militia, a super-powered militia, for all we know, don't you think the FBI would have moved? They were so eager to go after everybody else with a compound and a bunch of scared shitless teenagers who thought they were the goddamn messiah."

"Good point."

"Where was I? Oh, right, Xavier is a mutant, building an army, so on and so forth. I'll do you one worse. We've got a positive ID on the kid he's with, the one pushing the wheelchair. His name is Scott Summers. Five years ago, he and his brother Alex survived a plane crash near Barrow, Alaska that killed both parents. Xavier shows up six weeks later, adopts Scott, but lets Alex go to a foster home."

"Weird, but hardly scary."

"Give it a moment, doc, I'm not done yet. Seems nobody wanted Scott, he was allegedly involved in setting off an explosion that tore the roof of one wing of a hospital that was treating him after the crash. Never did figure out how he did it, but our researchers acquired a forensic report that concluded that the blast originated from below, like he lifted the damn roof off from his bed. Our boys are guessing he's a mutant, and a fucking dangerous one at that. But Xavier wanted him. Not the brother, just him. And he fits Summers with a pair of dark glasses made of some ruby quartz he ordered from South Africa, special. Same ones we saw him wearing yesterday. Now last night, our guys heard a state trooper in a bar down on Route 16 saying the Summers kid has a medical leave from New York DMV to wear those things, but he'd never seen anything like it before. Says it checked out, though."

"I'm too tired, Roger. Put it together for me, please."

"Xavier's recruiting his army. Summers is a mutant, he damaged the hospital, and the glasses have something to do with it. Carlton's power pulled in the most powerful ally she didn't even know she had, and we're in a world of shit."

He moved around the desk. "Can I use your computer?"

Dr. Erickson took out Connors report, and made way for Morriscone to put a CD in. "Here's a bit more evidence for the army theory." The CD contained pictures, most appearing to be graffiti, of an "X" inside a circle. "Those things have been catalogued in dozens of places where we think mutant activity took place."

"X for Xavier?"

"Could be, doc. I'm betting its more than just that."

"You're right. We are in a world of shit."

**Chapter 9 **

"Uh, guys, she's climbing the tree."

"Thanks, Saya, for that stunning report."

"Sorry. Mimi, maybe you could do something?"

The girl-creature wasted no time waiting for the ladder. Snarling and spitting, it had begun to climb the tree with its sharp finger and toe claws.

"Never mind," said Kathleen. "I'm on it." She grabbed a three legged stool, and swung it at the girl creature. The impact knocked it to the ground, and it began to climb again.

"Shit. I don't think I even hurt it."

Mimi had been lost in thought, and ignored Kathleen for the moment. "Wait a minute, I think I CAN do something. Remember those filing cabinets?"

"What about them?" said Kathleen, who was leaning over the edge, still armed with the stool.

"There was a description of a patient who had claws and was really ugly. Her name was Eleanor Rosinow."

"But she'd be like fifty years old now..."

"And how old is that thing?"

"It's closer to sixty," Saya said, and then stopped. She was on the verge of panic when Mimi hugged her.

"You can go backward as well as forward?"

"I think. I was in this tree house, but it was much nicer, and there was a man who put Eleanor here, and a boy who promised to look after his aunt. Yeah, I guess I can go backward as well. I'm pretty sure it was the past."

"Great. But that doesn't keep 'Auntie El' from coming up here and ripping our heads off, and I don't think I can stop her a second time."

Saya leaned over the edge. "Eleanor, you don't need to hurt us. We're not here to hurt you."

The girl-creature stopped, recognized its name. "Nuhhh hurrrttt?" it forced out of its twisted lips.

Mimi shot Saya a look of encouragement, and she continued. "We ran away from Carlysle." That name set Eleanor off into a rage. "No, no, we don't like them either. They want to hurt us, too."

"C'ryle bad mnnn. Hurrtt El."

"Yeah, that's right. Carlysle are bad men. Hurt you, try to hurt us, too."

Eleanor stopped, halfway up the tree trunk. She looked up, more puppy dog than feral beast now, and Saya dropped the rope ladder. Eleanor grabbed it and was up before it practically before the girls could blink. She squatted amidst the toys and dolls, and then gently picked up an antique Barbie doll. She stroked the hair, and carefully handed it to Kathleen.

Kathleen looked at the others before taking it. They nodded approval, and she reached out and took the doll. Eleanor then picked up another, and repeated the procedure until each of the girls held a doll. Eleanor then picked up another doll, and began to move it around, making cooing noises at the dolls the girls held. For a while, they engaged in a silent game of dolls.

"Creepy..." whispered Kathleen. Eleanor's ears snapped up, and for a moment Kathleen was on the verge of panic. Then Eleanor focused on the distance. She pointed.

"Bad mnnn..."

"Shit," said Mimi. "They probably figured to check this place. We gotta get out of here."

Eleanor gestured to them with a sweeping motion, and then started down the ladder. The girls traded another glance, and guessed she wanted them to follow. But they could not keep up with Eleanor's superhuman pace, so she stopped periodically to allow them to catch up. They raced through the hedge maze and down the grassy slope at the rear of the property, even as the girls saw the lights and sirens of a parade of police cars and white vans.

At the bottom of the slope was a creek, and Eleanor entered it and began running along it. The creek bottom was loose rock, and Kathleen and Saya were forced to slow to a walk for fear of cutting their feet on a sharp rock edge or spraining an ankle. Mimi ran for a moment along the creek's shore, but Eleanor circled back and pushed her into the water, hissing at her in anger.

After about half an hour, Eleanor came up short. She pointed to a trail that led through the woods, and then turned and bolted back in the direction they had come. After running through the woods to that point, the girls were too tired to consider chasing her. They sat down where they were, and Mimi pulled off her sneakers and watched the water drain out before putting them back on.

"Would have been better for me to stay on shore."

"Don't think so," said Kathleen. "I bet she thought we'd lose anyone chasing us by going in the water."

"Huh?"

"It's an old trick, but it doesn't work if they're using gadgets and not hunting dogs. I guess Auntie El really is as old as all that."

They examined their surroundings. They were in a deep woods, with no visible outposts of civilization. It was well into the afternoon, and in few hours, they would be lost in the woods, and lost in the dark.

It was Mimi who saw their way out. She called the others, and indicated the tire tracks on the trail. "Looks like somebody rides ATV's up this way. If we follow these, we should find something or someone."

Since they had no better plan, they began following the tracks.

**Chapter 10**

Roger Morriscone was less nervous than excited, or at least that what he kept telling himself. He was in the parking lot at the Carlysle Institute, overseeing men and vehicles, holding three conversations at once. He was smiling.

Dr. Connors made his way across the parking lot, holding a black bag in his left hand. Without a right arm, he was having trouble avoiding bumping into people scurrying back and forth across the lot, so he called out to Morriscone from where he was.

"This had better be important," although Morriscone was already moving. He rarely saw Dr. Connors outside of his lab. "What'cha got in the bag?"

"Something the techs have been working on. They're military grade psi-shields, they create a resonance wave that telepaths have..."

"Save the lecture, doc. Why do we need them?"

"Model PXR-07.2 is standard issue for all field and contact teams, and..."

"Fine for the Wideawake troopers, and the Marines, but why do our guys need them?"

"Word reached me Charles Xavier was here. I've always had the guy figured for a mutant."

"And I never had you figured for a tabloid reader, doc."

"Being serious here, Mr. Morriscone. Xavier's a cripple. His mutant power, if we take the liberty of assuming he's got one, is probably mental. Given his wide influence..."

"Your talking conspiracy theory, internet shit? Damn, doc..."

"Please, Mr. Morriscone, if you would stop interrupting for just one moment. There is a fair probability that Xavier's mutant ability is mental in nature. While these devices are generally effective only against send/receive telepathy of the type of patterns we can recognize, they may be helpful to your men."

"And why would my men be..."

"Now, please, Mr. Morriscone. I work in the lab, but I'm not naive. I'm fully aware of what your "plumbers" have been known to do..." Morriscone opened his mouth to deny it, but Connors cut him off, "and I am in full agreement. Therefore, I thought I would lend you some unofficial support. All I want in return is that you don't mention this to Erickson or the board."

"That all?"

"Oh, that and if we could avoid talking too much about my own after hours work?"

Morriscone picked up the bag, examined the contents, and shouted, "Osborn, Stanton, get over here." He turned back to Dr. Connors. "You got yourself a deal, doc. Good luck with whatever shit you're working on."

The girls had been following the tracks for no more than an hour when they saw lights ahead. The stopped, then crept forward, until they could see the lights belonged to an isolated house. The house had an elevated deck on the back, which was lit up as well. As they moved closer, they could hear water splashing.

They were about to move up to the house when they saw two girls about their own age come down a ladder at the back of the deck. One wore a bathing suit with a towel draped around her waist, the other was dressed almost like Kathleen and Saya, hooded sweatshirt, rolled up jeans, barefooted. Each girl held a bottle of Smirnoff flavored vodka drink. The two girls sat on the grass behind the deck. The one with the sweatshirt pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the front pocket, passed one to other girl, lit them both.

"Pool party?" Saya whispered. "Damn, you're getting good at this." Mimi nodded and smiled.

"What's so great about that," asked Kathleen, "don't see how it helps us much."

"Think about it." Mimi sat back and let Saya explain it. "We crash the party, blend in, we'll be harder to find."

"What if those kids turn us in? Or their folks?"

"Parents probably aren't home, or they wouldn't be partying. You really did have it rough with your dad, didn't you?

"Could we not talk about that now?"

"Sorry. Anyway, not worried about the parents. Kids might call somebody, but I'm thinking its worth the risk, 'cause they'd have to bust up the party to call somebody."

"Alright, then, let's do it."

They walked around the front of the house, and came in through the front door as if they belonged. Music bled into the living room from somewhere further within the house. There was a boy around their age sitting on the back of a couch in a black tank top and long swim trunks. He jumped off the couch and greeted them. Then he called out, "Hey, Teri, more people." He turned back to the girls. "Haven't seen you guys around. I'm Bradley."

Saya took the lead. "Lilian. This is Brittney," she said, pointing to Mimi. She indicated Kathleen. "And that's Sarah." Mimi shot Saya a knowing look.

"Cool," said Bradley. "Hey, let me show you guys around. Where are you from, anyway?"

"Oh, we're just visiting," Saya continued. We're from California, I've got some relatives in Portland, and my mom said I could bring some friends up for a few weeks."

"That's cool." Bradley began introducing them to some other kids, and all three girls breathed a silent sigh of relief.

**Chapter 11**

They stayed at the party for about an hour. Teri, their host, had a nice place, with an above-ground pool, and with her parents off in Asia for several weeks, she had wasted no time in inviting the entire neighborhood over. The girls could blend right in. Saya and Kathleen both took time to thank Mimi for another stroke of good luck, but she denied having anything to do with this one.

It was Saya who interrupted their partying. She rounded up Mimi from the couch in the living room, where she was talking to Bradley, and Kathleen from the pool deck, where she was working on her third beer and a plate of snack food. She got them into the kitchen, waited for a moment when they were alone.

"It happened again. Another vision."

Teri stuck her head into the kitchen, blonde curls dangling across her face. "You okay?"

"Fine," said Saya. "Drank a bit too much, too fast, is all. I'll be fine in a moment. Got some water?"

Teri indicated the front door of the refrigerator, and left. Saya turned to the other two.

"It was Jill. They didn't take her someplace east. She's still on the institute campus, and they're going to do something terrible to her."

"Are all your visions so depressing?"

"Shut it, Kath. I'm being serious here. We should help them."

Kathleen remained quiet, so it was Mimi who pondered aloud "Them? Who's them? And how?"

"Don't know. Jill's not the only one there. Maybe if we could find Dr. Xavier first, he could help."

"You put a lot of faith in that guy?" said Kathleen.

"Yeah, I guess so. He just seemed kind of, I dunno, trustworthy, I guess. Mimi?"

"He did, didn't he? But if Erickson didn't want him to see us in the first place, I doubt they'll let him back on the campus."

"So what, we should go back and help Jill? They'll catch us for sure, and do whatever they're gonna do to her to us, too."

They waited a moment as dark haired boy entered the kitchen, helped himself to a glass of water, and left.

"Well, I say we give it a try. They're looking everywhere for us, but maybe not there. Saya? Kathleen? You in?"

Saya agreed right away. Kathleen hesitated a moment, and then said, "Alright, let's do it. But how do we get there? I'm not walking all the way back."

"I'm on it," said Mimi, and with that she was gone back into the party.

Charles Xavier was getting frustrated. He had spent the last two hours on fruitless telepathic scans, patiently casting his mind first one direction, then another, making contact with everyone in the neighborhood except the people he was looking for.

"Hope and terror, sir?' said Scott, coming in unannounced and dropping the van's keys on the desk.

"Very much so, Scott. The hopes and terrors of mankind laid bare. Sometimes, it makes it very difficult to go on."

"Sir?"

Xavier looked up, reading concern on Scott's face and in his mind. In the five years since Scott had known Charles Xavier, he had never seen him look so...so... Scott's thoughts weren't agreeing on a single word. Tired, perplexed, defeated, human? Xavier gave up on telepathy and spoke aloud.

"I am tired. Actually, if I could prevail upon you to go out and get a cup of coffee..."

"No problem. Saw a Perkins across the street. Be right back." Scott left, and Xavier could once again let his fatigue show on his face. He laid back across the bed just as someone knocked on the door. Instinctively, he reached out with his mind to identify whoever just knocked, but found the new mind fuzzy to his thoughts. Wary now, he sat up and asked the person to enter.

The figure was a policeman, a Washington State trooper whose name plate said Reilly. Just as Xavier was about to speak, Reilly sat down on the bed next to him, and leaned over to whisper in his ear. He pulled away, and Reilly laughed, his form blurring and shifting from pudgy, balding beefy man to lithe, blue skinned woman. Xavier shook his head.

"What now?"

"That's hardly polite, Charles, considering I could have killed you just now."

"You presume you would still have control of yourself if that thought was lurking anywhere in your mind. But you undoubtedly came here for something more than exchanging idle threats, Ms. Darkhome."

"I prefer Mystique. Darkhome sounds too human. And MS.? Please, give it a rest."

"Very well, Mystique. What did you come here for, aside from interrupting an old man's nap?"

"Now who's full of crap?" She waited a moment, got no response. "Thought I'd propose a truce, like the one everybody know's you've got worked out with Shaw and company."

"So now you're in the recruiting business, as well? Never saw you doing Erik's bidding."

"I'm not Lenscherr's hired help, if that's what you mean." As she spoke, Xavier followed her thoughts, caught something about her and the man called Magneto, plans, betrayals, plots, before Mystique clamped down on her own thoughts. She chuckled. "That round you win. But I'm still serious about the truce."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

"Charles, I don't have time for this bullshit. You want the girls Carlysle can't find. You came to investigate Carlysle. You weren't the only one. Did you think your trip out here would go unnoticed? We were thinking of moving against Carlysle, before you pushed the timetable up. So, I'll ask once more, a truce? We find the girls, then we fight over who gets them?"

Xavier let his thoughts slip into hers, needlesharp razorquick fluid. He saw Mimi Carlton looking back at him, smiling and waving from a home video that was in her current file at Carlysle.

"Fine. Truce. On one condition. We let the girls decide for themselves."

"You're so predictable."

"It's one of my vices, so I'm told. Deal?"

"And you won't pull them with telepathy?"

"Didn't you just say I was predictable?"

"Deal." Mystique resumed the form of Reilly, stood up, thanked Dr. Xavier for his time, and left.

**Chapter 12**

Mimi left the girls in the kitchen for just long enough for them to begin wondering where she was, when she came back in with Bradley. "He's gonna give us a ride," she announced. Bradley smiled.

"When do you guys want to go?"

The girls nodded. "How's about now?"

"Sure, no problem. Let me just tell some folks I'm going out. You grab your stuff, and meet me out front." The girls headed for the front foyer, watched Bradley talking to a line of people one after the next until he went out of sight into the pool area.

"You guys sure of this?"

"Yeah, we're cool. But what do we do about Brad?"

"Leave him to me," said Mimi. "We don't want to tell him too much, or get him involved. I mean, he seems kind of cool, and I wouldn't want anything to happen to him."

"No worries on that score," said Bradley, swinging car keys on a long chain. "Nothing's happened to me so far. You girls ready? Put your shoes on and we'll go."

Kathleen hesitated. Saya looked at Mimi, thought quickly. "Uh, pool party, you know, didn't bother with them."

"Cool. Whatever. If you're ready then..." Bradley lead the way out the door, and the girls exchanged a triumphant glance and followed him.

Morriscone was still pacing the parking lot when Erickson found him. Neither man had slept much since the previous night. Erickson was balancing a styrofoam cup of coffee and a cigarette, while Morriscone took long drags from a bottle of fruit drink. Erickson put away his cellular phone, and offered Morriscone a cigarette, which was refused.

"Still no luck?"

"Yeah, doc. We got luck. All of it bad. Guessing Carlton's got more control than we thought."

"In English, your guys have no fucking idea where to look, and if, no, make that when, the board finds out they are going to drag my ass over the coals."

"Geez, doc..."

"I'm sorry, Roger. It's the stress and the cigarettes talking. Or I am being mind-controlled by Xavier right now."

"Don't joke about shit like that. We have protocols for that. Seriously."

Erickson saw the set of Morriscone's lip, and let the matter drop. He sipped his coffee, complained about how hot it was and how bad it tasted. Morriscone ignored him and turned to face a man in a white bio-hazard suit who was jogging across the parking lot to meet him.

"What's the situation?" Morriscone asked, peering through the hood to get a look at the man's face.

"It may be nothing, sir, but you wanted to be informed."

"Kennard?"

"Yes, sir."

"Sorry, go ahead."

"Of course. Like I was saying, it might be nothing. But I just got a call from the Bughouse, and they say a Mr. Williams, one of the security men, went out and then went right back in, but the duty guy, Cruz, wasn't so sure. In any case, Williams picked up something and left, but it just didn't feel right, and I trust Cruz's instinct, so I'm bringing it to you. Sir."

"Good man. Did you get Williams on the phone?"

"Before we came to you, sir. Voice pattern match was 83.5 percent, well within standard parameters for stress levels."

"So it really does seem like nothing."

"Yes, sir, but you said anything, no matter what."

"I did. Okay, keep an eye on the Bughouse, but don't do anything yet. I've got most every man in the field right now, and I'm going to need to borrow the containment team from there for a bit."

"Isn't that kind of risky, sir?"

"Of course, but we need every man in the field."

The girls climbed into Bradley's Toyota Four-Runner, grateful to be going anywhere they didn't have to walk. Mimi spun a story about how they were on vacation, who they were with, where they were going, and it was clear to all three of them that Bradley was happy enough with their company to not worry about it, or even to notice Saya had stopped speaking and was sitting quietly on the back seat, staring into space.

She looked across at Kathleen, who was staring out the window, watching the trees go by.

"Kath, it happened again," Saya whispered. If Brad or Mimi heard, they gave no indication. "It's Jill. They didn't send her east. She's still here, near here. Oh, god, they're doing things to do her. Its..."

Saya had raised her voice without meaning to, and Mimi and Brad noticed. Brad asked what the matter was, Mimi told him it was nothing, but it was clear to all three girls that Brad wasn't accepting that line.

"Is there something going on here I should know about?" he asked, just to break the silence. Nobody responded. He studied their faces in the rear-view mirror. "Shit. You were serious about something happening. What are you guys mixed up in?"

Still no response. The girls were looking at Mimi, who finally said, "Nothing. We're just talking. It's, uh, my mom. She's a bit of a pain in the ass."

"Right, okay." Bradley went back to driving, letting it drop for a full minute. Then, "Listen, if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine, but let me know where we're going, okay?"

"Right here," said Saya, suddenly. "We've go to stop right now."

As Bradley slowed down, a white van driven by two men in bio-hazard suits turned from a driveway into the road they were on, and drove right past them. The girls ducked. Bradley pulled the truck onto the shoulder of the road, right next to a sign that read "Carlysle Institute: Jefferson Research Annex" in large black letters and "Security on Patrol: NO ADMITTANCE" directly below that. The white van had come from the driveway to the Jefferson Annex.

Bradley looked at the girls, one at a time. "You can't go in there, its private. You'll get busted. And those Carlysle people are security nuts. Seriously."

The girls got out of the car.

"You really going in there?" Brad got out of the car, as well. "At least let me help you."

"You can't."

"Why not?"

Mimi took a deep breath. "Do you know what they really do at Carlysle?"

"I've heard the rumors, I've lived here near my whole life."

"What rumors?"

"Mutants, supermen, that kind of shit. That they create psychics, or supermen, or something, you know, Men in Black take you away if you know too much kind of stuff."

"What do you think?"

"Me? I don't know about supermen or mutants or psychics or whatever, but my cousin Lara can fly, and that's not normal. She showed me, and I was totally sober."

Mimi looked Brad right in the eyes. "They take people like your cousin, like...us...and they experiment and test and when they're done, they get rid of them."

"Us? You mean you guys?"

"Mutants, whatever you want to call it. Yeah."

"That's what the guy on TV was talking about. You know, you guys are dangerous terrorists, that's what he said."

Mimi stared at him, he dropped the joke with a chuckle.

"We're going in there. Unless you're going to call someone and turn us in?"

"I wouldn't do that. I told you I'd help. I meant it."

"Okay, then. Stay here, and be ready to drive."

"I meant come in and help you."

"Leave this to us, please. If something goes wrong..."

"Shit, you sound so noble, how can I refuse?" Brad took his hurt feelings back to the Toyota, while the girls eyed the fence.

**Chapter 13**

Xavier's telepathy caught Scott returning with the coffee, so he composed himself and greeted the young man as he entered. Scott flipped on the television, which was now describing the situation as a hunt for hysterical juvenile criminals who had already left a bloody wake of murder and carnage behind them.

Scott watched in silence for several minutes. "That's impressive, even for the news. They're really buying it."

"Scott, Carlysle bills itself as a containment center for dangerous criminals. That cover is serving them exactly the way they meant it to. But we have another problem. Mystique is here, ostensibly representing Lescherr."

"Who?"

"Raven Darkhome, or at least that's the name she goes by these days. Shapeshifter, world class impersonator, and it is damned difficult to get into her head, too."

"What does she want here? Actually, how did she know we were here?"

"The second question puzzles and disturbs me."

"Sir?"

"I don't know how she found out. We were careful to keep this trip under wraps, so she may have a source on the Carlysle board or even at the FAA or TSA. As for what she wants, she wants the same thing we do. We agreed to a truce, that we would help the girls out of immediate danger before seeing about keeping them out of each other's hands."

While Brad drove up the road, out of sight of the driveway, the girls considered their options. Getting past the wooden bar that blocked the driveway wouldn't be difficult, but they were pretty sure this Jefferson Research Annex had better security than a wooden bar. For a long minute Mimi and Kathleen stood staring at each other, while Saya's eyes remained on the ground. Finally, she asked, "How are we going to do this? We can't just march right up."

"We could just be sneaky and fast," added Kathleen, who was rolling her borrowed jeans up to just below her knees. "Not like we've got any other choice. I mean, besides not doing this." She finished with her pants, and looked from her bare feet to Saya's. "We're not exactly well equipped for this, you know."

"But think of what they're going to do to them. Or did to them. Or are doing to them right now..."

"Calm down, Saya,"Mimi jumped in. "We said we were going to do this, and we're going to.

But you've got to be sharp here. Once we go in there, you've got to concentrate really hard, and tell us if anyone's coming BEFORE they see us. Okay?"

"Sure. I guess. But can you do your wishing thing and make them not see us at all?"

"I'll try. Kath, you take the front, and if we find anyone, maybe you can do something."

"That's fine. Like I hit that one guy. I can do that." Kathleen looked excited about the prospective invasion for the first time since it had come up. She walked up to the gate, took a look around, and ducked under it. The others followed, and then all three broke into a run across the open grass towards the window-less dark concrete structure that was the research annex. They didn't stop running until Kathleen felt the grass beneath her feet give way to gravel. The others came up fast behind her, and ducked behind a car. Saya winced.

"Stepped on a rock." She sat down behind the car, and pulled her leg up to see the injury. "No blood, that's lucky." A bruise was already forming on her left instep.

"Didn't you see that one coming?" asked Kathleen.

"No. I'm trying real hard to see anybody else coming. Makes it a bit difficult to get around myself. Less running, maybe."

"Maybe. There should be fewer rocks inside."

"But how do we get in? I only see the one door, no windows or anything. Mimi, you got anything?"

"Yeah, I think I do. Just follow me." She tilted her head to indicate a truck that had just cleared the automated vehicle gate. It said "Robards Laundry Service" in black letters on a white panel. As it slowed down and entered the parking lot, Mimi moved towards it, the others right behind. They used the ninety degree corner, when the truck slowed to nearly a stop, to jump on the tail door. From there, it was merely a matter of Kathleen lifting the tail door, and by the time the laundry truck had reached the service bay at the rear of the building, they were hidden inside a laundry hamper, under a stack of clean white sheets.

They hardly had time to get settled in when the laundry hamper was lifted and moved. Mimi pushed the sheets up a bit and peered out. They were moving through a series of white hallways, with occasional stops at clear plexiglass barriers that cut the hallways into sections. Twice, they stopped for a longer period of time, and once they could hear somebody talking about fucked up readings and then the sheets moved and they held their breath until the searcher put them back down again. Then they stopped.

"Anyone coming?" Mimi and Kathleen were both looking at Saya, whose eyes were elsewhere.

"No, I don't think so."

"You don't think so?"

"Calm down, Kath, its not easy for her to do that."

"Whatever." Kathleen climbed out of the cart and found herself in a sterile white corridor. Black-lettered signs on the wall gave directions that meant nothing to her, and the chill of the air conditioner crept up her arms and legs in a way outdoor cold never did. Mimi followed, then Saya, wincing as her feet touched the smooth, cold floor. The cart was parked in an alcove, along with several others like it.

Mimi turned slowly, looking at the hallway and its doors. She picked a direction and started down it.

**Chapter 14**

By this point, the operations center at Carlylse looked like a fraternity house after a party. Empty drink bottles and fast food wrappers lay wherever they had fallen. Men and women half-dozed in control chairs, or went out to office couches to sleep while others took their place. Erickson hovered over the chaos, coffee cup anchored to one hand. Morriscone was napping in a chair, and Connors had gone home.

Erickson was bent over a monitor, checking another report from a field team, when an aide asked him to pick up the phone. As soon as he heard the voice of Dan Talbot, from the Defense Intelligence Agency, he was fully awake.

"How badly did you guys fuck this one up?" Talbot was saying.

Erickson took a sip of coffee, searched for his composure among the garbage and donut boxes. "We're getting the situation under control."

"I very much doubt that at this point. You've got what, five sweep teams in the field?"

"Six. I borrowed one of the two on station at the annex. Didn't figure we'd need them there."

"Oh, you didn't did you? Didn't you just move a new subject there the other day?"

"Yeah, but she's a short range projective telepath, no real control other than basic communication and no real threat."

"That a fact? So why was on the phone with Roger earlier and he was telling me they had some strange behavior out of one of their guys. You sure this, whatshername, Metcalf, you sure she's not as dangerous as all that?"

"Jesus, Dan. What do you want? I'm kind of busy here."

"What I want is for you to do your job. Look, our guys have put a lot of money into what you do, and we help with legal and we provide you sweep teams and agents and all sorts of shit that you're already aware of. All we want is some good data, something to keep the lab boys happy so they can figure out ways to kill these freaks if they get outta hand. And you can't contain three little girls. That's a real issue."

"I'm working on it."

"Do better. Fix it. Or find a new job."

Erickson listened to the click of Talbot hanging up the phone, and found himself shaking. Try as he might, he couldn't stop thinking about the retirement policy for a man who knew as much as he did.

Back inside the Jefferson Annex, the girls found themselves navigating sterile white corridors with color coded arrows on the walls. Saya's warnings allowed them to avoid people on two occasions, but even so, they didn't seem to be accomplishing much.

"They could at least heat this place," Saya said. She was wincing with cold at every step.

"Well, that sign that said 'protective gear required beyond this point' might have meant what it said."

"Easy for you to say, Mimi. You're not touching this floor."

"Fair enough. Wonder why its so cold...you think maybe they do it for a reason?"

"Don't know, don't care," Kathleen interjected. "Let's try this way." She pulled open a door that was marked with a green square. As soon as she did, a man in a white uniform, including a doctor's coat, turned to face her. They both stared, caught by surprise, until Kathleen broke the tableau by punching the man in the stomach. He doubled over, and she hit him again, and again, until he fell curled on the floor in a fetal position and moaned in pain.

"What'dya do that for?" asked Saya.

"Uh, I don't know, maybe so he couldn't raise a fucking alarm. Think about it."

Mimi ignored her sarcasm and moved into the hallway. It was lined with glass-fronted enclosures, each containing a bed, chair, toilet and sink. Three of the cells were occupied. "Can you guys find a key?"

Saya searched the man in the lab coat, and came away with a swipe card that she matched to the doors. One opened, and a teenaged girl with shoulder length blonde hair roused herself from the bed, stared at them as though she didn't quite believe her own eyes. She was wearing a hospital gown and a plastic bracelet was fastened to her left wrist. As Saya entered the cell, muttering reassurances, she was forced to stop short. She'd hit an invisible wall.

Then the girl visibly relaxed, and the wall vanished. "Sorry."

"Sorry, what? We're the ones doing the rescuing, right?"

"I meant about the field. Reflex. I've got it under control now."

"Can we go now?"

"Sure. I'm Saya, by the way."

"Sally."

"Nice to meet you."

At this point they were interrupted by Mimi, who announced that she had found Jill Metcalf, who was supposed to be in Vermont or some such place. Jill was unconscious, with an IV drip attached to one arm. Kathleen had found a boy, or at least something that looked like a cross between a teenage boy and a snake. He was sitting in the chair in his cell, gesturing at her. She got the swipe card from Saya and opened the door. The boy leaped down to the corridor, landed gracefully, noticed the moaning man on the floor, and went over to him. He turned the man over to look at his face.

To the girls' surprise, he delivered a vicious kick to the man on the floor. He followed it with two more, and then a stream of spittle, which smelled vaguely of citric acid in the antiseptic corridor. "I owed thissss guy, and I pay my debt. That mean I owe you, too."

"Uh, if that's the way you pay people back, we're cool as is," said Saya.

"No, I mean, yeah, that'sss what they get, if they dessserved it. You guysss are helping me out here, I owe you good. Cool?" The girls just stood and watched him as he uncoiled muscular arms and took in the corridor with a glance. "By the way, I'm Lou. Apology for the drawn out esses, my mouth make'em like that."

"Hey," said Mimi, "we're not gonna complain, if you can help us out. We've got to get out of here."

Kathleen took Mimi by the shoulder. "I think your luck may have just run dry." At the far end of the hall stood five men, wearing white bio-hazard suits. There eyes glowed green behind electronic goggles and plastic hoods. They carried what the girls assumed were weapons, a shotgun like thing, a long pole with a metal disc at one end, a device that looked like a cannon and was mounted on a harness one man wore around his waist and shoulders.

"Face down, on the floor, right now, and nobody gets hurt. You three, back in your rooms." It was impossible to tell which one of the five had spoken.

The girls looked at each other, panic rising.

**Chapter 15**

Lou moved faster than the girls could follow. He flowed towards the men, twisting his body to avoid a shot fired by the one with the shotgun type weapon. He tackled that man and began pummeling him with both hands.

For a long moment, nobody moved. Then the other men all moved as though they had been activated by some remote source. One dropped his long pole and drew a baton that he used to hit Lou in the back. The one with the harness weapon aimed and fired, and the girls felt more than heard a screech that carried dizziness and nausea with it. The other two men raised weapons as well, shotguns of some sort, and then everything stopped.

Mimi, Kathleen and Saya were working hard just to keep from falling when Sally stepped in front of them. Projectiles bounced off a field that had materialized around her and lifted her a few inches into the air. The field cut the sound, as well.

Kathleen was the first to recover. She stood up behind Sally, who was contorting with pain. Kathleen moved past her, grabbed one of the men just as a projectile from the shotgun hit her in the chest. The bean bag round flattened on impact, but to Kathleen it felt like a gift. She took the strength of the impact, channeled it into action, into her fist. She hit the man who had fired, and he collapsed with a whimper. Kathleen then advanced to help Lou, who was still being beaten by one man while he beat on another.

Saya and Mimi exchanged a glance that told each other they had to act. Mimi whispered what was almost a prayer for luck as she crawled forward to grab the shotgun Kathleen's victim had dropped, hoping the other men would somehow fail to notice her in the chaos. Her luck held, she reached the weapon as the man with the harness adjusted a dial on the side of his weapon and directed the scream at Sally, whose field flickered and went out. Sally fell back to the floor, knees buckling, landed to one side of the hallway, and began to throw up uncontrollably.

Saya watched and waited her moment. She saw the man with the harness advance, covered by the other shotgun. She saw Mimi hit the other shotgun man. Then she blinked and the present came back into focus. The men were moving, she put herself in the way of the man with the harness at the last moment, and he tripped over her and fell. Mimi shot him the face with the captured gun, and turned to face the other man, who fired and missed. She fired again, the gun jumping in her hands, and her luck held. She hit the other man in the chest, and he doubled over in pain. Saya then grabbed his head and pulled him to the floor, headfirst.

Both girls were then forced to duck as a body came hurtling down the hallway. Looking up, they saw Kathleen bent over in the follow through of her throw. Her eyes were following the man she had thrown, who landed about fifteen feet down the hall with a wet thud. Lou then stood up, kicked the man he had been attacking one more time, and came to join the girls. Mimi was still holding the shotgun.

Somewhere, a low buzzing noise became audible, and the lights went from white to dim red, as though the battlefield was bathed in blood. The girls squinted, the red light made it almost impossible to see.

"That mean more coming," said Lou. "Light down, they ussse goggle to navigate. We go now."

"Jill can't move like this," said Saya. "And what about Sally?" I think she might've got hit."

"Naussseator hit her ear. It'll wear off. But we go now."

"We can't leave them."

"I got it," said Kathleen, picking up Jill in an over the shoulder carry. "Somebody help Sally, and we'll get out of here before more of them show up."

"Itsss funny," said Lou. "Figure more of them be here by now. Off duty today?"

"Nah," said Mimi. "We're probably just lucky."

"I hope so," Kathleen looked back to her. "'Cause I'm counting on you to show us the way out."

Scott took the van out again, although he was rapidly losing hope of accomplishing anything useful. This time, he could see slow traffic before he got the roadblocks, so he was able to avoid them. Still, after several hours he had nothing to show. He saw a fast food restaurant, decided to leave the van for a bit and went inside.

He was half way through a fish sandwich when an attractive blonde girl in a grey baby-doll shirt came up and sat down at his table with any preliminaries. "Nice glasses," was all she said.

"Thanks. Uh, I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"You're sorry? What for?" And in his head, Scott winced, and took himself to task for not being very good at talking to girls.

"Nothing, really. Sorry about that."

"Geez. Stop with the apologies already. Did that the first time. I'm Janine." She held out a hand.

"Scott. Nice to meet you." Behind her, he could see several other girls watching the proceedings with interest.

"Are those prescription? I've never seen a tint like that. They're pretty cool."

"Yeah, they are. I've got this condition, see.."

"Can I see them?" She reached for the glasses, and Scott nearly jumped out of his seat. "NOཀ I can't, I mean, uh, I really can't take them off, not at all. It's very serious."

"Don't have to get freaked out about it, okay?"

"Sorry."

Janine was about to say something else about apologizing too much when another girl joined the two of them. This one was dark, eyes, complexion, hair, clothing. "How'ya doing, Scott?"

Scott jumped again. "I guess everybody knows me tonight. Do I know you?"

"Sure ya do," said the newcomer. "But we need to talk. Outside. Now." She grabbed Scott's arm with a strength that wasn't evident in her physical form, and practically towed him to the door. He barely had time to throw Janine an apologetic glance, and was completely unable to grab the other half of his fish sandwich.

The dark girl pulled Scott into the parking lot, right towards the side of the lift van. She pulled him close, almost as though to kiss him, and whispered, "Tell Charles the girls are at the Jefferson Annex. They encountered a security team and came out okay, I took care of the rest of them myself. If he wants to meet them, he should get there soon. And tell him to remember our agreement."

With that, she was gone, walking away as a dozen questions died on Scott's lips. Back in the restaurant, he could see the girls gathered around Janine, who was talking.

"Guess its true. The good looking ones are always nuts."

**Chapter 16**

The girls, now with Lou and Sally and Jill, didn't stop running until they had put space between them and the Jefferson Building. They were back in the woods now, probably lost, but none of them cared. Being away from that place was what mattered.

When they caught their breath, Mimi was the first to ask the group what they should do next.

"Gonna get gone," said Lou. "Don't care where."

"Sounds... alright... to... me," Sally added. She was still feeling sick from the screeching weapon that had shattered her field.

Jill said nothing.

"We've still got something we've got to do here," Saya told them, looking at the other two with a glance that asked if they thought she should tell the others all that they knew.

Mimi nodded, so Saya went on, "There's this guy, he tried to help us out, and now they're going to kill him. We're gonna help him, somehow."

"How you know?"

Mimi now looked back at Saya, who gave her approval before speaking. "Saya saw it. That's what she does. Sees things before they happen."

"Or after," Kathleen added. She was sitting cross-legged on a fallen log, mostly ignoring the proceedings.

"Anyway, that's what Saya can do, and that's how we knew we had to escape and help him."

"How'd...you...get out of there?"

"You alright?"

"No...I'll live."

"Effectsss passss. Time."

"Thanks, Lou."

"I think it was my doing. I'm not sure, but I think if I really want something to happen, it does. And I really wanted to get out of there."

"Lucky you...I've been wanting that all year."

Then a voice timidly pushed its way into the minds of the girls, Lou and Sally. "You're all?"

"Different?"

"Can do stuff?"

It said, inside their heads.

They turned to look at Jill, and nodded. She collapsed onto Lou's shoulder and began to sob with relief.

"We're totally fucked now, Doc."

"Thanks, Roger. But I knew that."

"It's worse than that."

Erickson was sitting just outside the operations center, slumped over an office chair that was much less comfortable than it appeared to be. He was staring up at Roger Morriscone, who was holding a small pile of printer paper.

"How much worse?"

"The bughouse fucked up, and we've lost three more." Erickson jumped out of the chair as Morriscone finished. "Including Metcalf. Cameras got almost nothing, but we do have a few images. It was Carlton, O'Shea and Endo. The got in, freed Metcalf, Blevins, and Zaccharelli."

Erickson was numb. "Which one's Zaccherelli?"

"Snake-like adaption, real fast. We picked him up last year in Chicago."

"Right. That one."

The two men stared at each other a minute. Morriscone broke the silence. "We still under Code Green?"

"Sure."

"Fine. Fuck it. Gonna get it done. Don't worry, Doc. Gonna get out of this."

"Roger, Talbot from DIA was on the phone. They're serious. If we can't fix this, we're in serious fucking trouble here."

"I know." He turned to the intercom, buzzed it. "Get me Stanton and Osborn in here right away." He went back into operations, got Connors' black bag. When Stanton and Osborn arrived, he handed them the bag. "We're moving the timetable up, boys. Do it tonight."

They took the bag, examined the contents.

"Gonna do a psychic, huh?" said Stanton, pulling out a headband with LED indicators on one side. "That's good. One less goddamn freak in this world."

Morriscone nodded as they left.

**Chapter 17**

Bradley had been sitting in his truck for some time, just thinking. He'd turned the radio off twenty minutes ago. He was thinking about his cousin, about how amazing it must be to fly, how he'd probably get airsick or something, when he noticed a small crowd approaching. Mimi was at the front.

"You still keen to help out?" He nodded. "Good, 'cause we got a bunch of people here that need to be somewhere else." Bradley just nodded again as Mimi and Kathleen began helping Jill and Sally into the truck. Lou stood back a short distance, watching Bradley's reaction to his appearance.

"Where are we going?"

"We aren't going anywhere. If you really want to help, take these two someplace safe. Teri's place, maybe, I don't know."

"Let me give you my number, so I can find you again."

"Haven't got a phone." Saya and Kathleen indicated that they did not, either. "Why bring one and give the parents a reason to call you?" said Saya, smiling with what she hoped was a half-vacant look.

"Makes sense." He ignored Saya's obvious lie. "I'll write it down." Bradley fished around the truck until he found an envelop and a pen, wrote a number on the back of it. Mimi took it and thanked him.

"What about that guy?"

"That's Lou. He's not sure what he's doing yet." Mimi turned to ask Lou, but he turned away.

"I'm going," he said. And then he was gone, into the trees, faster than they could follow.

"Hold on," said Mimi, and she ran into the forest after him. Lou must have circled back, because he ran twenty steps and found Mimi in front of him. He pulled up short.

"It okay. Gotta go. Thing to do."

"What thing?"

"Bunch'a thing. More than one."

Okay, she thought. Doesn't do plurals. No big deal. "We owe you one. You really saved us back there."

"Helped me earlier. Got me out. Even. Okay?"

"Okay." Lou took to the forest, and was gone. Mimi came back to where Saya and Kathleen were. Bradley stood just outside the driver's door of the Toyota. "Am I driving you guys

someplace as well?"

"Uh, no. We'll be alright."

Bradley looked doubtful, but said nothing.

"Got a question," said Saya. "Do you know a hotel around here where they've got a Perkins or a Denny's or something like that across the street?"

"Sure. Dorsett Inn. It's near Route 5. About three miles from here, up that way." He pointed it out, clearly wondering what the question really meant.

"Thanks. It's cool. Uh, I'll explain later." He visibly relaxed. "If there is a later." Bradley looked stressed again.

"We should go," Mimi said, but Kathleen was already walking up the road in the direction Bradley had indicated. As he got in the car, she turned to Mimi.

"Nice going. A few more miles of walking."

"Sorry."

**Chapter 18**

Xavier hauled himself from his wheelchair to the hotel room's bed, and swung his legs up with one hand. His brain was still at work, scanning mind after mind, but he wasn't counting on getting lucky. Nobody he had passed by had seen the girls, or knew anything about them. He gave up and was on the verge of contacting Scott by telepathy when the phone rang.

It was Scott.

Quickly, he filled Xavier in on his encounter in the restaurant, ending by saying he would come and pick Xavier up, and they could go to the Jefferson building. Xavier thought about it for a moment, and realized Scott would have to go first in one direction, then the other. He vetoed that plan, and told Scott to go himself.

He stretched out in the chair. "Now," he thought. "Now comes the hard part." With that, he let his thoughts drift, searching for the girls with his mind alone. After fifteen minutes, he opened his eyes, staring up now at the hotel ceiling.

He had dozed off, he was sure of it. When he awoke, it was dark. He sat up, taking a moment to get his bearings, when he heard a high pitched whine. He reached out telepathically, and hit a wall that steered his probe off course.

Xavier knew a psi-screen when he hit one. He'd encountered psionic protection technologies before, he'd even helped design them. He saw the red light flash, warning the wearer he was under attack. There were two men, outlined by the light from the Perkin's sign across the street. They wore black, except for the red warning light now going off on their headbands. The whining stopped, and one man put away his glass cutter while the other threw two cans of tear gas into the room.

Xavier listened intently to the quiet hiss of the gas, used it for a focus, built his attack. He directed a mental command at the two men. They hesitated, one with a hunting knife half clear of his belt sheath. The psi-screens blinked as they fought.

Xavier sent his thoughts slowly and deliberately. PUT...THE...KNIFE...DOWN...NOW

The man struggled, his whole body twisting and contorting as instinct and training fought an overriding command.

The second man was more pliable. He froze in his tracks, still holding a third can of gas.

The girls were hiking in the direction Bradley indicated when a car stopped nearby. They were a distance back from the road, still more concerned about being seen than being speedy. The driver, a middle-aged woman with short blonde hair and a black business suit, got out and looked around. Then, with all deliberation, she looked right at the girls.

"You may as well come out."

All three stood stock still. Mimi looked at Saya, Kathleen at both of them. Nobody had an answer.

"You need help. I can help you. Simple as that. Besides, I know where you're hiding."

They remained silent.

"I've been following you since you left Jefferson. Relax, I'm not on their side. But if you don't want them to find you, you should come with me. Now."

It was Saya who spoke first. Still crouched behind a tree, she called out, "Who are you?"

"I'm an associate of Dr. Charles Xavier." Mystique shifted one eye a bit, to watch the reaction that drew. Inwardly, she smiled. Right on the money. The girls stood up.

"Get in. I'll take you to him."

"Wait," said Saya. "Where he is now?"

"What's the differnce?"

"It's...important. Just tell me."

Mystique squinted a bit, but couldn't find Saya's angle. Not knowing left her frustrated, but she remained calm and middle-aged outside and played along. "He's at a hotel near Route 5."

"What's it called?"

"Dorsett, I think."

"Fine." She turned to the others and nodded, and moved to get in the car.

"And by the way," the middle-aged woman said, shifting into a blue, sleek female form, "I know what you're going through."

**Chapter 19**

Charles Xavier would have cursed himself, if he could spare the energy. He was too old, he told himself, to be taken like an amateur. But they had gotten in, and the gas made it hard to focus, and the psi-screens were screaming bright red lights in his brain. He shifted tactics, leaving off the one command and flooding the man's brain with screamed static while he extracted information to use in his next attack.

The man's name was Greg Osborn. He was thirty eight years old. He had served in the United States military, been honorably discharged. Had worked two years for a private security company based in Virginia. He hated and feared mutants. He was afraid for the privacy of his thoughts. He liked to hit his sexual partners. It made him feel good.

Xavier stopped, drew a deep breath, and plunged back in, however distasteful it might be. He was in a fight. Outwardly, Xavier stared at Osborn, who sweated and struggled for each step he took towards the bed where Xavier was laying. Osborn was moving in slow motion, but he was moving, as Xavier's laser sharp probes dulled, his pointed needled barbs found no mark in a mind trained to resist interrogation and even telepathy. Stanton also had such training, but it was Carlysle's doing, less thorough than what Osborn's former employers could teach.

"Interesting," Xavier thought. Ever the scientist, he noted how Osborn had been trained in telepathic resistance by the security firm, whose name Xavier could not force out of him. The battle centered around that data for a moment, until Xavier shifted back to motor control.

Osborn had gained three steps. Sweat lined the inside of his face mask, making the wool stick. His hand gripped his knife so hard blood welled up inside his latex glove, pushing it outward until there was no give between the latex and the leather outer glove he was wearing. Xavier spared a thought to direct at Scott, calling him, but Scott was too far away.

Outside, Mystique and the girls pulled into the parking lot. Saya, riding in the front, counted to ten, and as she finished, it began to rain. If the others noticed, they gave no indication, although Mystique almost gasped aloud when she realized what Saya was doing. They piled out of the car and ran across the parking lot.

The curtains over the sliding glass door were open, although only a table lamp illuminated the room. Saya knew instinctively, and raced towards Xavier's room, the others half a step behind. As they approached, the took in the silent battle, Osborn, knife in hand now, only three steps from the bed, from Xavier, raised up on his arms, his face lined in concentration.

Mimi swore, and wished the worst she could think of at the man with the knife. Osborn took another step. His foot came down on a coffee cup on the floor, and he slipped. As he went down, Xavier drove a single thought into his head. SLEEP.

Osborn lay still. Stanton stood, still unmoving, near the door. Kathleen and Mystique moved as one, grabbing the door and pulling it open, hauling Xavier out of the room and the gas.

He coughed the gas from his lungs, sent a telepathic "thank you," and slumped on the pavement. Mystique carried him to her car. In the distance, red and blue police sirens were becoming visible. Mystique nodded her head towards the car, and they all piled in. They left just as the first police cruiser arrived and began playing its spotlight on the hotel windows.

It was several miles before anyone spoke.

Xavier broke the silence. "Thank you all." He nodded to Mystique, including her as well. "I'm not sure I would have had the strength left to deal with the police. Those two gave me quite a battle."

"Not like you to be caught off guard," Mystique added. "You're showing your age, Charles." She noticed the girl's questioning looks. "He's older than he looks, but a lady never tells." She smiled at the girls, letting them in on the joke.

"So, you want to make your pitch first, Charles, or shall I? We still have a deal, right?"

"Indeed we do. And I believe I will." He turned to the girls. "As you've probably guessed by this point, mutants are quite real, and all three of you are, in fact, mutants. I run a private school in New York State that specializes in the training of young mutants..."

"Tell them about the army part," Mystique interrupted.

"I was getting to that. Some of our graduates go on to work for me, full time. You see, I believe that it is likely that once the public at large becomes aware of mutants, fear and hatred will rule the day, and the results will be tragic. Therefore, I have taken steps to ensure that should such a situation occur, we are prepared to deal with it in a peaceful manner and to open a dialogue between mutants and baseline humans."

"Sounds sweet. Not realistic. Is it my turn, yet?"

"If you must." Xavier's eyes drifted away, as he reached out telepathically to Scott, updated him on the situation, told him to meet up with them as soon as he could.

"Peaceful integration sounds nice, but they'll never accept us. You may as well get used to that. The interests I represent are also working on a plan for the future, but one that doesn't rely on the goodwill of others. We'll take that goodwill if it comes, but if it doesn't, we're ready for that, too."

"I'd like to add," as Xavier returned to the present conversation, "that while Mystique's offer may seem more 'realistic' or even idealistic, it pains me to mention that you should continue your education. My facility is a fully accredited high school, with a flexible class plan designed to meet each individual student's needs."

"Oh, good one. Every kid wants to be reminded about going back to school." Xavier smiled, but said nothing. If he'd read the girls right, even without relying on telepathy, that very sort of normalcy would be his trump card.

"Mind if we talk it over?" said Mimi. Xavier and Mystique agreed. They stopped the car at a highway rest stop, and Scott caught up to them there, in the van.

The girls got out, wandered a short distance off. From the grassy picnic area, they could see Scott and Xavier talking in low voices, while Mystique, now again in her middle-aged blonde persona, leaned on the hood of her car.

"Normal sounds okay to me," said Saya. I think school would almost be nice, after all this. The others nodded in agreement.

"As long as they've got some cute guys," added Kathleen.

"We're agreed, then?"

They walked back over to tell Xavier there decision. Mystique looked disappointed, but said nothing as she got in her car and drove off.

After Scott helped Xavier into the van's front seat, and the girls sprawled in back, Xavier turned to them. "I'm glad you chose the way you did. There is one thing, though. Scott has a brother living in California, and asked permission to go visit him. I thought perhaps a week of sunshine before we get to the serious business of school might do you some good. What do you think?"

They thought they'd made the right choice.

**END OF PART I**


End file.
